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»heat«
The Namib teaches patience. It gives nothing away easily, and the little it reveals becomes as precious as water. Days full of heat, endless expanses, the hum of the Landcruiser, the rhythm of the search. On this trip, we not only followed the tracks of the lions, but also those of the ancient giants – the desert elephants.
Only two herds still roam these harsh landscapes between the dried-up Hoanib River and the Atlantic coast. Barely fifty animals, whose existence is a silent miracle. Their paths are long, their steps deliberate, their tracks ephemeral.
A new bull appeared – big, strong, determined. A loner in musth on the move. We followed him, cautiously, at a distance, listening to the rhythm of his movements. He took his time, like all elephants, but it was more than that: he moved with the confidence of a creature that doesn’t need a destination to know its position. Then he paused. He stood perfectly 90 degrees to the side of us in the light – in a narrow, golden slit of sunlight that fell through the dense branches. Behind him: a huge shadowy wall of bushes – partly dead, partly still alive, dark and dense, almost black in contrast to the dust in the backlight.
Again and again, he picked up the fine desert sand with his trunk and let it trickle down his back. Not once, not twice – almost ritually. It was no longer dust – it became a curtain. For a moment, he seemed to disappear behind it, becoming an emergence between light and shadow, between life and decay.
Again and again, he picked up the fine desert sand with his trunk and let it trickle down his back. Not once, not twice – almost ritually. It was no longer dust – it became a curtain. For a moment, he seemed to disappear behind it, becoming an emergence between light and shadow, between life and decay.
I was completely fascinated and pressed the shutter release.
Dust showers cool the body – the visual effect is the opposite, as if it was steaming. “Heat” is not a picture that just shows an elephant. It is the image of a moment, full of dust, light, history and mystery. It seems as if time stands still. The elephant, covered in dust, as if from another world. Surreal. It is an encounter with the soul of this desert.
Edition of 10 . 166 x 126 cm
»dune«
The Namib – ancient, endless, merciless. Its wind carries the taste of salt and dust, its heat burns deep into the skin, and yet there is a quiet majesty in it that outshines everything. For 14 days, we traveled along the Skeleton Coast, in a landscape that seems so uninhabitable that it is almost surreal.
My goal was as clear as it was daring: a portrait of one of the legendary desert lions, those rare and almost mythical creatures that have learned to survive in this harsh world. Their numbers are minuscule – only 10 of these unique warriors live between the area of the dried-up Hoanib River and the Atlantic coast, their habitat enormous – and their emergence a blessing.
The days were demanding, both physically and mentally. The dry climate made our skin crack, fine sand crept into every crack of our equipment, and the silence of the desert was only interrupted by the howling of the wind and our own breathing. Hundreds of tiny flies on our heads. But every sunrise was a promise, every fresh track in the sand a glimmer of hope. We searched day after day. And then it happened. The midday wind had already settled a little. He appeared out of nowhere – a mighty warrior, slowly stepping over the crest of the dune. Like an appearance, the light of the low sun at his back.
He approached us slightly from the side, his gaze calm, almost indifferent, but at the same time penetrating – as if he was looking at me and through me. My pulse raced, but my hands remained steady. Leaning out of the Landcruiser, I had the camera on the ground. Then, about ten meters in front of me, he changed direction slightly, without haste, without shyness, he came even closer. The moment as if in slow motion. In majestic serenity, as if we were part of this landscape, nothing more and nothing less. No fear, no threat – just the silent consent of a king going his own way.
We did not return to our camp with a simple portrait. We left with stories that can only be found in the silence of the Namib and with the deep humility of having encountered a creature that is stronger than sand, sun and time.
